


Red Wine and Cherry Moonshine

by thattardiskey



Series: When Our Mortal Bodies Fail Us [5]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, New Years Eve, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-02 22:38:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4076434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thattardiskey/pseuds/thattardiskey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New Years Eve is a quiet after Bard's kids go out with friends and Thranduil allows Legolas to go skiing.</p><p>New Years Day is a hangover, two black coffees, a plate of bacon and a stack of burnt pancakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Wine and Cherry Moonshine

Some families had deep established traditions. The Bowmans were not one of these families. Their traditions were unspoken and loose. There was no weight or generations-long history behind them, at least not like most families traditions. They ate Chinese food on Christmas because it was easier and no one liked turkey. They bought a bought a cheap cake from the frozen section of Walmart and ate it, still frozen, while the ball dropped on TV every New Years Eve because it was what they did. 

However, as the Bowman children grew, they branched out. They didn’t mean it cruelly, they meant it carelessly and independently, as all children do. There were a plethora of other exciting things to do on New Years Eve. 

Tilda, despite being youngest, was the first to break tradition. She went winter camping with her Girl Scout troop. It was a 3 day trip, and she was going to come back with her first Brownie Badges, Snowshoeing and Nocturnal Animals. Upon seeing how excited she was, Bard allowed her to go without a second thought.

The same New Years Eve, Bain had an “overnight party” with his 4H group. It was a sleepover, but the first time Bard called it that Bain got comically upset and pouty, it was easier to just concede to “overnight party.” 

Sigrid was the last to duck out and was hesitant when she did. She found the weak traditions important. She remembered the "good old days” best. She remembered beautiful homemade cakes and going into town to watch fireworks before. She remembered being snuggled up next to her father after everything happened, tracing the deep blue-brown circles under his eyes with small hands as he unwillingly drifted off to sleep (she tries to forget that. Oh God, does she try).

However, she still left. A local movie theater was holding a Harry Potter Marathon and all her friends were going. It seemed like a better choice than sitting around the house in what felt like a strange mockery of New Years. Bard allowed her to go with a “be safe.” 

Then, he stood around, completely unsure of what to do. He hadn’t been alone on New Years in years. He had his kids, and before that his wife, and before that his parties. Now, he had none of that.

He wandered around the house for a while, beer in hand. He stood by the window, as if something interesting would happen outside.

Eventually, something interesting did happen. Despite the fact that Bard had seen him pack suitcases in his car and drive off a few days ago, Thranduil walked outside, bundled up in a sweatshirt and blanket, wine glass in hand.

Curious and bored, Bard went out onto his porch. 

“Hey!” He said from the top of his steps. Thranduil looked over to him.

“Hello, Bard. How are you?” They didn’t have to yell to be heard. It was dead silent and there wasn’t much distance between the homes, just a street and some lawn.

“Good. How are you?”

“Fine, thanks.”

“I thought you were headed on vacation. Saw you loading up a few days ago. ” Bard hoped his casual tone hid the curiosity.

“I was taking Legolas to the airport,” They both started walking towards each other, Thranduil in a longer stride. “He’s skiing with some of his friends from New York.”

“Oh,” Bard nodded. They reached each other at the end of Bard’s driveway. “So I take it you’re alone this New Year’s too?”

“That’d be correct.”

“Mine all left too. Tilda and Bain had sleepovers and Sigrid’s at some,”Bard made a small motion of his hand, “Harry Potter movie thing.”

“I saw some advertisements for that in town.”

“Yeah, she was all excited for it and I figured letting her be happy is more important than some dumb frozen cake anyway.”

“Frozen cake?” Thranduil asked. He took a sip of wine.

“You know,” Bard made his hands in the square shape of the cake, “Bout this big, freezer section. Sold by the Pepper Farm Company or whatever it’s called.”

“Like an ice cream cake?”

“No, it’s completely real.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. Would you like have some? I’ve got one in my freezer.”

Thranduil smiled, “I would love some frozen cake.”

“Well, then let’s get out of this cold, eh?” Bard made an “after you” hand motion, but the two ended up walking side by side to the door. 

—

Thranduil stood by the fridge with the blanket around his shoulders, held closed with one hand and the sleeves of the hoodie pulled up to his fingers as Bard got the cake out of the freezer. He watched curiously as the cake emerged.

“Well, here it is,” Bard said, putting the box on the kitchen table, “Let me just get some plates.” He turned his back to Thranduil to get out paper plates. “Can I get you a coffee or anything?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Thranduil tilted his wine forward, as if making a toast. “I’ve definitely never seen a cake like this before.”

Bard turned back around, plates and a knife in hand. “Just wait until you try it.”

Bard attempted to be suave opening the box. While pulling the cake out, however, his hand slipped and he managed to shove his thumb into the side of the it. He claimed that piece as his own.

Then he gave Thranduil a piece. The man sat down at the table and shrugged off the blanket. Bard grabbed his piece and sat down across from him. They ate in silence.

When Thranduil had finished his slice, he set down fork and took a sip of wine. “You know,” he said, “wine really complements the chill of the cake. It goes well with the frosting.”

“I would have never guessed,” Bard replied, scrapping up the bits that the thawed enough to stick to his plate. 

“You really ought to try it. Have you got a good red around?”

“I’m not really a wine guy. I’ve got some cherry moonshine that’s the same color. Kinda.”

“You really should try it. I’ll go grab one of my bottles.” Thranduil got up, wrapped the blanket around himself, and walked out the door.

While he was gone, Bard looked over to the stove and caught the time. 11:37 pm. He gathered up the plates and the cake brought them out to the living room. He went back for his beer and Thranduil’s glass of wine.

It took him a bit to find the right station for the ball drop, but not overly long. He’d just settled on the couch when Thranduil returned with an almost full bottle of a red wine with a name Bard couldn’t even begin to pronounce and an empty wine glass. He toed off his boots at the front door and carefully stepped around the snow puddle so his thick wool socks wouldn't get soaked. The blanket sat mostly forgotten on his shoulders. He pulled it off as he sat down. 

Thranduil poured the wine and Bard cut another small piece of cake for each of them. They watched the annoying talk show host blather on and Bard tried the wine. 

“So,” Thranduil asked, “you mentioned something about moonshine.”

Bard swallowed a bite of cake, “Yeah, a buddy of mine makes it.” He took a small sip of the wine, “I flavor it myself.”

“Really?” Thranduil shifted himself to look at Bard.

“Yeah,” He nodded, “I tried to make some maple but ruined the whole jar.” He gave a half shrug, “mostly just make cherry. I mean, it’s the easiest, you know?”

“I didn’t know that, actually.”

“Really?” Bard felt genuine surprise. “Have you ever even tried some of the good stuff?”

“No, I don’t believe I have.”

“Oh, you’ve gotta try it.” Bard’s eyes went wide, “I’ll go get some.”

“I’m fine, really. The ball will drop soon.”

Bard looked over to the TV. 11:48. He shrugged, mostly to himself.

“Eh, it’ll be fine. I know exactly where it is. ‘Sides, you brought some your wine over. It’s only fair.” He left the living room, Thranduil awkwardly watched some half-frozen pop star bounce around a stage in Times Square. 

Bard came back with a mason jar in his hand. It was filled with a neon red liquid. Wasted college students screamed into a camera in New York City. It was 11:53 pm.

“Ah-ha, told you I’d find it.” Bard put in on the table and took off the cover. The rim twisted off just fine, but he had to wedge his thumb nail under the sealed lid to open it. “You go first.” He picked it up and tilted it slightly to Thranduil. 

“You can go first. It’s yours.”

Bard narrowed his eyes a bit, but conceded and took a drink from the jar. He ended with a shake of his head and a “whew” and tilted it back to Thranduil. Thranduil took it this time, with the bit of trepidation that comes with trying a new liquor. 

Thranduil wasn’t dumb enough to try and sip it. He hadn’t tried to sip anything stronger than wine since his teen years. He took a swig of it.

The moonshine threw him. He echoed Bard’s movements and looked the man directly in the eye.

“It’s better than I expected,” Thranduil gave. Bard smiled. 

“Help yourself.”

Thranduil did. He took another gulp of it. Then, he handed it back to Bard. Bard drank and didn’t give much reaction beyond the twist of his mouth and furrow of his brow. He went to hand it back to Thranduil, who made a small motion of his hand. Bard set it on the coffee table. 

“So, Legolas is skiing?” Bard asked.

Thranduil grabbed his wine glass but didn’t drink from it. “Yes, he left 3 days ago for Colorado.”

“That’s fun. Never been much of a skier myself,” Bard looked over the coffee table to the fresh-opened wine and the moonshine. He took sip of wine. It was much better than the beer he usually drank. It was also, he reckoned, much more expensive. “Mean on a sled though.”

On the TV, the countdown started. Bard and Thranduil’s conversation halted and they looked – hypnotized by the sound – to the screen. Lights flashed bright and removed on the screen. 

The ball hit the ground and fireworks exploded up into the sky. The crowd was liberally coated in confetti. 

Bard and Thranduil looked at each other for a few seconds, unsure what to do. They both swayed slightly closer. They both swayed back a second later. Thranduil broke the silence, bringing his wine glass between them.

“Happy New Year?”

Bard reached to the table without looking and felt the mason jar in his hands. They toasted. “Happy New Year.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if you were expecting a kiss. I wrote a version with it, but it didn't feel right. 
> 
> As per usual, feel free to hit me up on tumblr. I'm thetravelinghufflepuff.tumblr.com


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